Though I do not count Gatsby among the characters of this kind, for Gatsby, though he died in a way that could be seen as the epitome of indignity (wrongly believed to have run a woman down with a vehicle, shot dead in his swimming pool by her distraught husband, and attended in death by only a smattering of mourners), the completeness of his devotion to Daisy Buchanan, wrongheaded as it may have been, allowed him to share, at least as he would exist in the memory of both the narrator and the reader, in that idealism that partakes of what is best about romantic or courtly love.